Your Name is Jack Spicer
by intoxicatelove
Summary: ...And you have just died.


A/N: A sad, Jack-centric fic taken from my tumblr page. Warning for death.

. . .

 _Your Name is Jack Spicer…_

… _And you have just died._

 _It is a terrible, terrible thing to realize, but you know it to be true. Your body is transparent, and you are staring at your peaceful body lying in your bed. There is perhaps, a small part of you that is glad that you did not die in some wretched, horrible way. You cannot recall how you died._

 _You have been standing in front of your bed for the past ten minutes._

 _Soon, those minutes turn into hours._

 _Perhaps it has not hit you yet._

 _Hours turn into days, and soon, weeks. You are not surprised that no one has come to find you, not even your parents. You always did, have a painful life– and to an extent, you are free. You won't have to deal with your weak body, and all the the complications it caused you._

 _You also won't have to deal with the mental torment of not being strong enough to meet anyone's standards, and constantly being beat up over that, and ridiculed, and so… so much more._

 _You realize your death was probably wanted._

 _You realize that at some point, you have probably wanted this._

 _The only regret lies in your robotics. Transparent hands cannot make your creations again. They will rust and they will rust, never to be used again. The thought makes you want to cry. To sink to the floor and cry until you cannot anymore._

 _You still stare at your body. It is about to go into rigor mortis. This is when you have to turn away, to venture on. Why are you still here? Should you not have moved on? This is not fair. Why stay chained to the world if you can no longer live in it? Is there something you have to do before you move on? What could that be?_

 _Suddenly, you hear a noise, and someone comes in. It is Megan– she was probably visiting you like she did every month. You know her to be the only one who loved you from your family, cousin or not. Sure, the two of you fought, but she never, not once, said she hated you. You and her were just a normal pair of siblings._

 _She is crying once she realized you are dead. She shakes your body, begging you to wake up. You can hear a scream of your name as she sinks to her knees and cries at the bed. She stays there for hours._

 _Later on, she has to call some sort of authorities. They come, and take your body away. They tell Megan that there is nothing that they can do, and that you were probably dead for days– which is true. She sobs even more._

 _Megan hasn't told your parents yet– instead, she tells four very unlikely people: the monks. She doesn't know how to tell your parents just yet, and since she met the monks at one point, she tells them._

 _They seem to disregard the fact that you were their enemy, and look distraught. They are not faking it– their emotions look– feel… so real. Megan tells them that the funeral is in three days, and asks them "Will you all come? You'll all come, right?"_

 _She tells no one else of your death, except for your parents. They believe she is lying– "A guilt trip"; "He wants attention". She sobs angrily and throws the phone. You have never seen her so angry before. Something compels you to float towards her, and wrap your arms around you. She freezes, and you almost wonder if she can see you._

 _Instead, she can feel your presence._

" _I miss you, Jack," she says._

 _You begin to cry._

 _The funeral is today. Megan, the monks– they're all dressed in black. Somehow, she got forced your parents to come. They look in shock. Regret is on their faces. But you don't really care about them. They never treated you right. You bet that now, they wish they treated you like a son._

 _You look over to yourself in the casket. You are dressed in a mixture of red and black. You smile. At least they did that for you, instead of white. It never suited you, except for your skin. You turn your head, and Omi is there. He's staring at you mournfully. He was the only one who saw good in you. You fight back tears just as he is trying to fight back tears._

 _The funeral was over about a couple of days ago. You still haunt your own house– how ironic. After all of this, you seem to have forgotten about Chase, and Wuya, and possibly Hannibal. It was no matter, they wouldn't have cared anyway. Or so you thought._

 _You forget that she liked to pop up from time to time, despite no longer being partners with you. Megan seems to remember her, and when facing her, tells her that you are no longer living. She is shocked, at first, and also does not seem to believe Megan. Frantically, she searches for you, and calls your name. Megan just repeats herself._

 _She is forced to tell Chase, as well. He does not react negatively as you thought he would. He reacts… differently. He has to excuse himself. You eventually find him at your gravestone. He is sitting on clean grass and resting his head against the grey stone. Your spectral form sits next to him._

 _He says nothing– almost like he can't understand what's going on, but he does look sad, at least. You've never seen him look like this to anyone who he has once hurt, so it is genuine. If you squinted, you could hear a whisper of, "I'm sorry. I want to bring you back."_

 _Someone like him… could do that. If he truly wanted. But for now, now… you wanted to rest. Wanted to be free. You got up. Perhaps the closure you needed was to have someone at least be sorrowful in your name. At least to care about you._

 _It is time to move on, you gather. You smile to yourself as you begin to walk, to see your body begin to fade. You don't know whether or not you'll go to Heaven or Hell– but you never really believed in either. So maybe some purgatory where others might be. Maybe you'll see a couple of fallen animals, as well. You will not be alone. Before you fade, however, you see splitting forms of the robots you used to create._

 _You smile– because you know even in death, they are still with you. You can go on happily._

 _It is time to move on._


End file.
